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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657960">Grip</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandoandyodito/pseuds/mandoandyodito'>mandoandyodito</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(slight) - Freeform, Dry Humping, F/M, Hair-pulling, Moaning, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Smut, Wet Dream</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:47:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657960</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandoandyodito/pseuds/mandoandyodito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For every second that goes trapped inside the Razor's Crest with Din, the thing that's tense between you two just grows and grows. In the day you act as if nothing is happening, but what happens at night?<br/>"Your name leaves his lips in a breathy moan, desperately grinding against your body, driven by his hot dreams but completely unaware of his actions in real life. Your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach. He’s thinking about you. You wonder briefly what is turning him on so much, what is he doing in his dream. Or what is he fantasizing about that makes him moan your name?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>362</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Grip</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please go scream at me on my <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mandoandyodito">Tumblr</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The days are starting to blur together the more time you spend in the Razor’s Crest, with no indication of what day it is, nothing but your own perception of time to keep track and try to stay sane. The silence, with a man who speaks two complete sentences on a good day, tends to become overwhelming if it stretches for too long, which happens more often than not.</p><p>With Mando flush against your left side at night though, time ceases to exist, much less matter. He always runs hot, probably because the beskar keeps his warmth inside, like a shiny envelope that he allows you to strip off every night with the only condition to have all lights turned off, sensitive to every single touch you give, intentional or accidental. </p><p>He has a reputation to uphold, the big bad scary Mandalorian hunter, with no mercy to his bounties, getting the job done with no questions asked. Aggressive when needed, detached like he doesn’t care about anything but the job. He’s incredibly smart, which only makes him scarier. Nobody wants to get on his bad side, that’s for sure. And getting on his good side is not an easy task, easier to avoid him altogether.</p><p>His upbringing had been a hard one, with his parents getting killed when he was still a kid and then being taken to The Mandalorians where there was no soft caress from a mother, no wise words from a father. Only training, fighting,<em> The Creed, The Way.</em> They showed love and affection in other forms, but definitely not in a touching style.</p><p>Not like he’s complaining though, he owed everything to them.</p><p>But with the kid, his reputation stopped mattering. The kid was an exception to everything he was known for. Sometimes he wonders where he would be without that little womp rat, where would <em>you</em> be. He tries not to linger on that thought too much, hurts to think about it. </p><p>You push him away from your body a little, the heat getting suffocating. Your arm is trapped between the cot and his torso, leaving your hand beside his head. The fact that he trusts you enough to hide his face in the space between your head and your shoulder forms a lump in your throat, knowing what would happen if you even so much as peeked at his face. You’d never do that, and that’s exactly why he sleeps so easily around you. Instead, your eyes are fixed on the ceiling, your mind drifting off to places you don’t allow in daylight.</p><p>Sometimes he looks at you and thanks the Maker that he wears a helmet because his facade would come crashing down if anyone realized how soft you’ve made him, how he melts when he’s looking at you. You’re beautiful, inside and outside. Once he tried to deny it to himself, and the feeling of stupidity that followed still haunts him to this day. And he knows it’s not a great idea to allow himself to embrace it even a little bit under the helmet, but he doesn’t know how to stop, doesn’t know if he wants to.</p><p>His left arm wraps around your waist and pulls you to him, letting out a content sigh. You smile, moving your hand up to his hair, brushing it softly so as not to wake him. You can feel his lips moving against the skin of your neck, no sound coming out. His other arm is laying over the edge, hand dangling from the cot. </p><p>Although him sleeping with you is very common, you’re sure he doesn’t know how cuddly he is, and he most likely doesn’t know you know. He probably thinks he stays like a statue, far away from you. You’re not an item, after all, you’re just <em>friends</em>. And even that sounds too personal but too simple at the same time. Friends don’t sleep together at night because the other’s presence helps them sleep better, but friends can hold a conversation for more than 30 seconds without it getting awkward and that’s not something that happens between you.</p><p>You let out a soft sigh, caressing his silky hair with your fingers while your other hand comes down to his forearm and brushes his skin lightly, the bumps of old scars clear under your tips. </p><p>His lips kiss your neck softly, spreading heat all over your face. You tense, clenching your legs together as you stop your movements. He whines, still asleep.</p><p>After a few seconds, you relax against the cot, resuming your movements absentmindedly. He’s never acted like this before, but now you realize that something is digging against your thigh and you’re sure it’s not his blaster. You move your leg, testing. A breathy moan leaves his lips as he pulls you closer to his chest, grinding lazily against you for a moment before stopping and moving his leg on top of yours.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>, he’s having a fucking wet dream.</p><p>You take a deep breath, willing your heart to calm down, and stop beating so fast. The heat from before suddenly feels worse, making your body hot from the tip of your toes to the top of your head, making you squirm.</p><p>The Mandalorian sneaks his hand down your sleeping shirt, hiking it up a fraction. His calloused fingers explore your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, closing your eyes.</p><p>Out of nowhere, his hips start rubbing against you, with such sluggishness that you’re sure he’s still asleep. Soft, sweet pants leave his mouth, his breath hitting against your skin, only making you hotter. You can feel him <em>leaking</em> pre-come, the worn pants wet rubbing against your own, getting them damp, making them stick to your body. The thought makes your core throb, blood rushing down as you clench your legs together seeking relief.</p><p>“Fuck” you bite out, careful not to wake him up as sweat starts to appear in your forehead.</p><p>He remained asleep, whining as he rocked his hips against your thigh, his erection just pressing harder and harder until you got soaking wet, desperation invading your senses as his own leg presses against your heat just enough to provide some friction but not enough to ease the ache, just riling you up even more, bringing tears of frustration to your eyes.</p><p>Your name leaves his lips in a breathy moan, desperately grinding against your body, driven by his hot dreams but completely unaware of his actions in real life. Your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach. He’s thinking about you. You wonder briefly what is turning him on so much, what is he doing in his dream. Or what is he fantasizing about that makes him moan your name?</p><p>Your eyes flick down to his arm, muscles spasming as he uses it as leverage to hurry his movements. Without realizing it, you grip his forearm harder, about to go insane. Your skin feels overly sensitive at the lack of stimulation where you need it most, and you lift your hips up slightly, your clothed clit brushing against his calf. You moan, biting your lip and closing your eyes as relief floods you briefly before a new wave of frustration fills your body as he moves his leg down to your knees, taking away the only source of release you had found.</p><p>You grit your teeth together, breathing deeply to calm yourself down. You decide to take what you can get, enjoying his sounds, his touch. He doesn’t stop, not even for a second. His hips start stuttering though, his rhythm growing irregular and his noises getting needier, whinier.</p><p>And just as you’re sure he’s about to come, just as you’re about to <em>do</em> something incredibly stupid and let every effort to get close to him go to waste, he <em>wakes up</em>, and your breath hitches in your throat.</p><p>At first, you can practically feel the doubt and regret roll off of him like waves, despite his hips still moving involuntarily against your body. His grip at your waist eases a little bit, but he doesn’t let go. There’s a slight shake in him, his entire body. You’re not sure if it’s because he was about to come or the shock of what he woke up to.</p><p>What should you do? Feign sleep? He’s too smart to fall for that, too sharp. Even barely awake, his reflexes are ten times yours on your best day. Your logic is telling you that the only other option is to flee from there, but you’re not leaving him to drown in guilt, thinking that he abused you in some way when the dampness down the middle of your legs very much say that he didn’t.</p><p>This is not something one can simply ignore, act as if nothing happened. Everything is going to change after this, so at least one of you should be able to get some sort of release out of it.</p><p>“It’s okay, keep going” you finally say, threading your fingers through his locks, pulling gently, making him groan and returning his grip to the almost bruising one from before. “keep going”</p><p>Still sleep-heavy and hesitant at first, he obliges, moaning as he thrusts against your hip, his grip at your waist tightening. His rhythm becomes erratic, with his leg laying on top of yours as his clothed dick seeks for enough friction to make him come. His right hand grips the edge of the bed until his knuckles turn white, using it as an impulse to push harder against you.</p><p>He whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut again as he buries his face in the cot. The heat pooling in his belly grows, his muscles clenching as his orgasm runs through his entire body like a wave, making his toes curl and his fingers grip your body stronger, nails digging against the covers on the other side. You whisper sweet nothings to his ear through it, encouraging him to keep going. He lets put a choked moan as his cock keeps pulsing his release inside his clothes, chest heaving. The aftershocks hit his body harder than he’s ever felt, making him jerk beside you like he’s been electrocuted. He has to bite his lips to stop himself from screaming, opting instead for gripping you harder, pulling you closer as he rides out his orgasm. His hair is a mess by now, with all the tossing and your attention to it.</p><p>As he comes down from it, his body relaxing back into the cot, he moves his head back to his spot in the crease between your neck and your shoulder, breathing slowly. Your heart is beating wildly, and he can probably hear it but doesn’t comment on it. You’re not sure if he’s aware that what just happened wasn’t a dream, and there’s a horrible ache between your legs that you won’t be able to relieve right now for fear of his reaction. Maybe that would be too much at once for him. </p><p>Taking deep breaths, your eyes begin to drop, the rush of adrenaline finally subsiding. His breath is now calm against you, and he moves his hand from your waist to hold yours and thread your fingers together.</p><p>“Is this the first time I do this?” He whispers, sleepy. His words are slurring together, bordering on the state of unconsciousness. You hope that, if he remembers this tomorrow, he won’t regret it, won’t act as if nothing ever happened. You certainly won’t, and if he decides to, then everything will only be harder.</p><p>“Yes,” you answer, gripping his hand. He sighs, shifts slightly to be closer to you, and falls asleep.</p><p>You follow shortly after, knowing that the next morning would be interesting for both of you. For a moment, your mind starts to create different scenarios of how this could go, going from spectacularly good to horribly wrong. Everything is possible.</p><p>But that’s a worry for the future</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please leave a comment or kudo if you liked this!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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